


So hold me, lover, like you used to

by Llama1412



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, Episode Related, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Getting Back Together, M/M, Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Songfic, Tender Sex, The Amazing Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24225556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: When Geralt brings Cirilla to Oxenfurt to search for Jaskier, he was not expecting to walk into a concert the bard and another were giving together. Songfic based on The Amazing Devil.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Priscilla
Comments: 13
Kudos: 257





	So hold me, lover, like you used to

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from The Amazing Devil song Wild Blue Yonder.
> 
> Oh, and yes, Priscilla is Madeline Hyland. Because I said so.

Geralt had known even before Ciri had brought it up that he needed to find Jaskier again. He knew he had messed up – he hadn’t even truly been angry at Jaskier. He had tried to relieve the tension at the wrong moment, and Geralt had taken his feelings out on the bard.

And then Jaskier had left.

Jaskier had never just left before. 

Geralt assumed that was a pretty clear message. ‘You pushed me away, so I’m going. Don’t go looking for me’.

Ciri said he was an idiot and that he definitely needed to track down Jaskier and apologize. Since she seemed actually pretty good at the human interaction thing, Geralt decided to follow her advice.

Which led them here, to Oxenfurt. Geralt figured that if Jaskier was anywhere, it would be back at the University.

He was half right. Jaskier  _ was _ in Oxenfurt. In fact, they’d arrived at the perfect time – apparently the bards Jaskier and Priscilla were hosting a public concert in the main city’s plaza. Once Ciri had heard that, Geralt knew what they’d be doing, even if he wasn’t delighted by the idea.

It’s not that he didn’t like Jaskier’s singing, truly. It’s that his songs were so – well, empty. They were full of clever lyrics and fun choruses, but they didn’t actually  _ mean _ anything, and Geralt was so tired of the way everyone  _ still _ sang  _ Toss a Coin _ at him, even 20 years later.

Geralt let Ciri tow him towards the square. They didn’t have to force their way through the crowd – on the contrary, when people saw a Witcher behind the eager young woman, they quickly shifted to accommodate their presence. They weren’t close to the makeshift stage, but they weren’t far either. Still, “can you see?” he asked Ciri.

She bounced around on her tip toes, as if an inch would suddenly make her taller than the grown adults between them and the stage. Geralt sighed. “Come here,” he offered his hand. Ciri had a confused look on her face, but she took his hand without question, and squealed with laughter when he lifted her with one hand and shifted to settle her on his shoulders. She was a little big for this position, but it was just for the duration of a concert. Besides, it clearly made her happy.

“Thanks, Geralt,” she leaned down to kiss his forehead at an awkward angle, then looked up and gasped. “They’re coming! It’s starting!”

Geralt had a clear view of the stage around all the heads in front of him, and he almost wished he didn’t, because the sight of Jaskier grinning and waving at the crowd  _ hurt _ like a knife to the chest and Geralt wasn’t sure if he could do this. He turned his attention to the others on stage instead. There were several people behind the two bards, setting up instruments. Another bard that must be Priscilla took the center stage with Jaskier, leaning close to talk to him as they set up. They seemed close, Geralt thought idly, pretending not to understand why the thought made his heart twinge. It was good that Jaskier had people around him, after Geralt had messed up. Jaskier was a people person – he needed lots of attention and lots of company. Playing in Oxenfurt with a band was probably much better for him than traveling with Geralt.

Should Geralt even be here? What if Ciri was wrong and Jaskier really  _ did _ mean for Geralt not to follow him? What if Jaskier was happy here and Geralt would just be a reminder of a worse time?

If it weren’t for the girl on his shoulders bouncing with excitement, Geralt would have turned and fled. But this was the most upbeat he had ever seen Ciri and he couldn’t ruin that.

Silence spread over the crowd as Jaskier and Priscilla each raised a hand. Jaskier strummed at his lute and Priscilla began to vocalize a long note. 

_ You were raised by wolves and voices _

_ Every night I hear them howling deep beneath your bed _

_ They said it all comes down to you _

They continued to sing, switching off for different verses and lines, often with Priscilla continuing to vocalize in the background of Jaskier’s lyrics. It hit Geralt suddenly that this  _ wasn’t  _ like all the music he’d come to expect from Jaskier. This wasn’t a pie with no filling – actually, Geralt was slowly getting the impression that it was  _ all  _ filling.

_ You are that space that's in between _

_ Every page, every chord and every screen _

_ You are the driftwood and the rift _

_ You're the words I promise I don't mean _

_ We're drunk but drinking, sunk but sinking _

_ They thought us blind, we were just blinking _

_ All the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold _

Then Jaskier sang in a soft voice,  _ remember me I ask, remember me I sing.  _ He took a deep breath and Priscilla stepped forward to stand next to him and Geralt felt shivers go down his spine as they both yelled,  _ give me back my heart you wingless thing! _

_ Think of all the horrors that I _

_ Promised you I'd bring _

_ I promise you _

_ They'll sing of every time _

_ You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child _

_ Witness me old man, I am The Wild _

Was Jaskier singing to him? It was silly to think; Jaskier didn’t even know he was there. But the lyrics made Geralt think of the times, years ago now, when they had laid quietly by the fire, Jaskier resting on Geralt’s chest as he ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair . He’d only ever called Jaskier ‘child’ as a joke – Geralt was a great many years older than him, after all – but the two together, could they mean something? Or was Geralt just seeing what he wanted to see? 

He focused back on Jaskier as his voice rang out alone.

_ Day by day oh lord three things I pray _

_ That I might understand as best I can _

_ How bold I was, could be - will be - still am, by god still am _

Priscilla joined as they grew louder, more forceful.

_ Fret not dear heart, let not them hear _

_ The mutterings of all your fears, the fluttering of all your wings _

_ Welcome to the storm, I am thunder _

_ Welcome to my table bring your hunger _

Then it was back to that chorus, the chorus that Geralt thought might be about him. He stared intently, trying to burn Jaskier into his memory again. Geralt didn’t want to keep remembering the hurt look on Jaskier’s face from the mountain. Even if it wasn’t because of Geralt, seeing Jaskier grinning and thrumming with energy before a crowd was a beautiful sight.

_ Remember me I ask _

_ Remember me I sing _

Was it ridiculous for Geralt to want to shout that he’d never forgotten Jaskier, that he’d thought the distance was what Jaskier wanted, but Geralt desperately wanted his friend back? 

There was one more rendition of that chorus,

_ I promise you, they'll sing of every time _

_ You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child _

And then the two bards threw themselves into the final lyrics and the whole song ended with furious drumming and Jaskier strumming on his lute.

Then one of the musicians on stage started playing a tune on the piano and Priscilla launched into song again. Jaskier sang a few background words and Geralt found himself distracted tracing the shape of Jaskier’s face with his eyes, remembering the feel of his skin under Geralt’s fingers.

He’d really ruined things, hadn’t he? He might never get to touch Jaskier again.

Then Jaskier stepped forward and began to sing, voice soft and low at first, then gaining force until his voice was all that Geralt could focus on.

_ I promise you I'm not broken _

_ I promise you there's more _

_ More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door _

_ Goodbye to all my darkness, there's nothing here but light _

_ Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night _

_ This here is not make up, it's a porcelain tomb _

_ And this here is not singing, I'm just screaming in tune because _

Geralt felt his breath catch in his chest, and Jaskier kept singing, Priscilla joining him.

_ Farewell Wanderlust, you've been ever so kind _

_ You brought me through this darkness, but you left me here behind _

_ And so long to the person you begged me to be _

_ He's down, he's dead _

_ Now take a good long look at what you've done to me _

Was Geralt going to spend the rest of his life wondering if Jaskier’s songs were about him? He dearly hoped this one wasn’t. If that was how Jaskier felt – that Geralt had left him behind, had knocked him down and killed him – Geralt couldn’t bear the thought of that being how Jaskier felt.

_ He's down, he's dead _

_ He's gone, oh, he's lost _

_ He's flown, he's fled _

_ Now take a good long look at what you've all done to me _

The two bards held the last note for several moments, and then suddenly it was over, and Geralt felt able to take a breath. Above his head, Ciri was cheering loudly, grating at his ears, but he couldn’t blame her. The performance truly had been spectacular and Geralt felt that Jaskier had very much proven that his singing was nothing at all like a fillingless pie.

Geralt should probably tell him that. Except that meant  _ talking _ to Jaskier, and that seemed like a terrible idea.

Though, talking to him was the only way he might hear Jaskier say  _ dear heart _ again, even if the odds of Jaskier saying it to him were slim. Until this moment, Geralt hadn’t even known he wanted that. Hearing the songs seemed to have cracked open a void in his chest, desperate for more, more, more.

Ciri gripped his hair and said loudly, “we  _ have _ to go meet them!”, so it seemed Geralt’s hesitation wouldn’t matter anyway. He would do just about anything Ciri asked, even if it meant potentially getting turned away by the man who had been his best friend.

Geralt took a deep breath and made his way through the crowd, Ciri still perched on his shoulders. It was a convenient way to travel with her, actually. Geralt would have to move his swords if they ever did this on the road, but Ciri was as distractible as Jaskier had always been and keeping her on his shoulders was a great way to ensure that she didn’t run off.

“Wasn’t that amazing!?” Ciri said. From the way her weight shifted on his shoulders, she was gesturing with her arms and Geralt wrapped a hand over her knee to keep her stable. “That one line in the first song was so haunting, it was so cool! And ‘screaming in tune’! They’re so incredible, I’m so excited to meet them, Geralt.”

“He might not want to see me,” he reminded her gently. “But I’m sure he’d still want to talk to you.”

He could practically feel the suspicious look she gave him. “You’re not going to use that as an excuse to sneak off without seeing him.” Ciri ordered, and he had no doubt that the Lion Cub expected her orders to be followed just as much as the Lioness had.

“Of course not,” he said as if the idea had never crossed his mind.

“Good. There they are!” She pointed needlessly, but the shout made the people around Jaskier and Priscilla part to stare. Geralt couldn’t look at him at first, but when he did raise his eyes, Jaskier’s eyes were wide. Ciri accidentally kicked him trying to get down to talk to her new heroes and Geralt abruptly remembered that seeing him with a child on his shoulders was probably strange.

Geralt shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say. Fortunately, Ciri beat him to it. “You were amazing! Your voices are so beautiful and I’m so glad we got to see you!”

Priscilla grinned down at Ciri. “Thank you!”

“Your name is Priscilla, right? That’s what the guy who told us about the concert said.” Ciri spoke rapidly, bouncing on her feet. “I like your name. I’m Cirilla, so we rhyme!”

She said it quietly, but Geralt still hissed,  _ “Ciri!” _

“What?” She frowned at him. “You trust Jaskier, and they’re partners – right?” Priscilla’s nod made something grow tight in Geralt’s chest. “Right, so Jaskier trusts her. So it’s fine.”

Geralt couldn’t exactly disagree with her, but it was so not  _ fine. _

Ciri smiled back up at Priscilla and cupped her hands around her face to whisper. “We’re hiding because people are after me.”

Jaskier had leaned forward to hear and at her words, his face turned worried. “I heard about Cintra. I’m so sorry. I’m glad you got out.”

Ciri’s smile turned sad, and it made something in Geralt mourn to lose that upbeat energy. “Thank you.” She big her lip and turned to Geralt, stretching out her hand. Geralt took it immediately. “I’m just glad I found my Destiny.”

Jaskier’s smile hurt to look at, but Priscilla quickly distracted him. “Have you found somewhere to stay yet? If you’re worried about being recognized, why don’t you come stay with us?”

“Us?” Geralt barely managed to get the word out.

“Us.” Jaskier confirmed, not looking at him. 

Geralt bit his lip. His involvement with Priscilla didn’t necessarily mean Jaskier would be unwilling to be with Geralt again, assuming his apology was accepted. Once he actually said it. But they’d had similar arrangements before, with the Countess de Stael and Yennefer and others over the years. 

Except for those, Geralt had been the one Jaskier always came back to. Even if he spent the winter with the Countess, come spring, he would be back at Geralt’s side.

Just one more thing about their relationship that Geralt had ruined. He dropped his eyes to the ground in shame.

“If we could stay with you, that would be great,” Ciri took over for him, and Geralt nodded when Priscilla turned to him for confirmation.

Did she know that Geralt had broken Jaskier’s heart? What did she think of him being here now?

For that matter, what did  _ Jaskier _ think? So far he’d avoided looking at Geralt at all. Instead, he took the lead in guiding them to the house where he apparently lived with Priscilla. Geralt did not at all wonder if this is what he could have had if he’d gone to the coast with Jaskier.

Ciri chattered with Priscilla on the way, and even Jaskier seemed to relax a bit when faced with the excitable young woman. Geralt found himself smiling softly at Ciri as they walked up the path to Jaskier and Priscilla’s house.

“It’s not too big,” Priscilla said.

Jaskier took over, “but since you’ve probably been staying on the road in a tent, you’ll love it.” He winked at Ciri and she giggled. Priscilla waved them inside and the four of them settled into chairs in the main room.

Priscilla focused her gaze on him. “You didn’t say what you thought of our performance,” she said. “You’re Geralt of Rivia, obviously. So, what does the mighty White Wolf think of our singing?”

She was baiting him, Geralt realized. She wanted to know now how he was going to treat Jaskier. Geralt respected her for that. She clearly wanted to protect her partner, and Geralt was glad.

Instead of any of the glib – or hurtful – responses he would usually reply with, Geralt licked his lips and forced himself to say. “You were amazing.”

Jaskier gasped, and Geralt looked up to see Ciri smiling proudly at him. He tried to smile at her and then forced his gaze up to meet Jaskier’s. His face was pale with shock and his shoulders were tense.

“I was wrong to ever say anything else,” Geralt said. “Your performance was incredible.”

Jaskier mostly just looked confused now, and Geralt wasn’t sure how much more he could force himself to say. He’d always been terrible with words, struggling to get out each sound.

For now, Ciri saved him with a big yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she covered her mouth, embarrassed, and everyone turned to her. 

“Don’t be sorry, dear. It is awfully late,” Priscilla held out her hand. “We have two bedrooms here. I can set you up in mine, how does that sound? I bet you’ve missed a proper bed.”

“Gods, yes,” Ciri said fervently, taking Priscilla’s hand, but also snagging Geralt’s and dragging him with them. He staggered in surprise, but followed her with a backwards glance at Jaskier. Jaskier’s eyes were impossible to read, but his face was set in a frown.

Geralt was scared of what that could mean, and he turned back to Ciri.

Priscilla bustled around, pulling out spare sheets and blankets. “Make yourself at home, dear. I imagine we may be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”

“I hope so,” Ciri said. When Priscilla left to prepare for bed herself, Ciri poked Geralt sharply in the side. “Apologize properly! You’re never gonna win him back if you don’t tell him how you feel!” She crossed her arms. “And don’t you dare get us kicked out. I like Priscilla! I want to stay here a while!”

Geralt found his mouth pulling into a smile at the sheer confidence this child had that what she wanted would happen.

And it would be, if Geralt had any say in it. He knew she had him wrapped around her finger, but she was also right. He had to try again.

“Will you be all right here? Do you need anything?” Geralt brushed her hair back from her face and Ciri patted his wrist gently.

“I’m fine. Go apologize.”

Geralt nodded. “Good night, Ciri.” He pressed a kiss to her foreheard just as Priscilla slipped back into her room. “Good night,” he bowed his head awkwardly to her.

Geralt took a deep breath and walked back into the main room to see Jaskier strumming his lute and singing softly.

_ Let’s hide under the covers _

_ We don’t know what’s out there _

_ Could be wolves _

He looked up to see Geralt watching him and smiled sadly.

_ So hold me, lover, like you used to _

_ So tight I’d bruise you _

_ I’d bruise you, I’d bruise you too _

Geralt dropped to his knees in front of Jaskier, lip twitching at the shocked look on Jaskier’s face. Geralt slowly reached out to grasp Jaskier’s hands, and the bard let him, his lute cradled in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier. I never wanted to hurt you, but its all I seem to do.” Geralt leaned his head forward until he could rest his forehead against their hands on Jaskier’s knees. “I want to learn to do better.” His breath hitched. “I want to become someone who deserves you.”

Jaskier sniffed wetly above him. “It was never about deserving, Geralt. All I wanted was for you to love me.” His awkward laugh was choked with emotion. “Was that really asking so much?”

“No,” Geralt shook his head, face still pressed against their hands. He hated that he had done this, that he had made Jaskier doubt his worth. He took a deep breath and looked up to meet Jaskier’s eyes. “You are incredible, Jaskier. You are kind and fierce and your silvertongue gets you into too much trouble, but it also makes my knees weak and my heart ache.” He licked his lips, trying to force out the right words. This was  _ important.  _ “I didn’t know I could feel all these different things before you. It scared me,” he whispered, biting his lip. He inhaled deeply and continued, “It scared me that you could make me feel these things. So I pushed you away. I ran whenever you ever got too close.” 

“Geralt,” Jaskier whispered. There were tear tracks down his cheeks.

Geralt swallowed. He held Jaskier’s eyes as he said, “You’re worth everything, Jaskier. You deserve to be – to be loved. I – if you’ll let me, I want to try to love you the way you deserve.”

Jaskier made a broken noise and freed his hands. Geralt felt his breath freeze in his chest, his heart going cold, but Jaskier just set his lute aside and then flung his arms around Geralt, hugging him close.

Geralt let himself hug Jaskier back. He raised hesitant arms and curled one around the back of Jaskier’s head. The other he stroked down Jaskier’s back, rubbing slow circles. Jaskier relaxed into him with a sigh.

Geralt wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, wrapped in each other. When Jaskier finally pulled back, all of Geralt’s senses were hyperfocused on the bard. He could smell the drying sweat on Jaskier’s body, the salty tears smudged across his cheeks, the musk of faded adrenaline from the earlier performance – it all combined together with the underlying sandalwood spice that was  _ Jaskier,  _ and Geralt wanted to tuck his nose against Jaskier’s neck again. 

He only realized he had zoned out staring at Jaskier’s neck when Jaskier laughed, the sound still wet, but joyful underneath that. Without Geralt realizing, the warm tang of arousal had permeated the air. Geralt jerked his eyes up to Jaskier’s in surprise, and Jaskier wiped at his eyes, a smile on his lips. “Staring at me like that, you’re going to give me ideas.”

Geralt felt warmth climb up his spine and he let his eyes go half-lidded. “And what kind of ideas might those be?” His voice was deep and gravely in a way he knew Jaskier liked, and the sharp scent of arousal spiked. Geralt let his lips curl into a pleased smirk.

Jaskier ran his hand through Geralt’s hair, rubbing his thumb along Geralt’s hairline. “You could show me exactly how sorry you are.” Jaskier slouched down in his chair and let his legs spread wide.

Geralt edged closer on this knees. When he was pressed as close as he could get, Jaskier’s legs draped over his shoulders, he crossed his wrists behind his back, tensing his abs to lean forward and nose his way between Jaskier’s thighs. Jaskier unlaced his trousers and pulled himself out. Geralt tilted further forward to mouth at the base of Jaskier’s cock, licking over Jaskier’s fingers where they were holding himself steady. Geralt took a deep breath, inhaling Jaskier’s scent and his next exhale came out as a rumbled groan. 

“Good boy,” Jaskier murmured. He stroked his free hand through Geralt’s hair, letting him explore at his own pace. Geralt sucked at the fingers Jaskier had wrapped around the base of his cock. Jaskier released his cock and let Geralt pull his fingers into his mouth, flicking his tongue along each callus. 

When he was satisfied, he pulled back with Jaskier’s hand loose in his hair, following him rather than guiding his head. Geralt licked across the head of Jaskier’s cock where precum was already beading and savored the salty taste. It was the taste of Jaskier’s pleasure, of the enjoyment he was deriving from Geralt. Geralt sighed in contentment and his eyes fluttered closed. Using his tongue to guide him, Geralt wrapped his lips around Jaskier’s cock and slowly slid down. He sucked lightly at his mouthful, pursing his lips tight as he drew off and swallowed him down again.

Jaskier moaned above him and the sound of it sent hot fire down his spine, coiling in his belly. His cock was begging for attention, but Geralt wanted to keep his hands clasped behind his back. He wanted to show Jaskier that he could be good and he could learn to be better. If given the chance.

Jaskier was giving him the chance. He moved his leg off of Geralt’s shoulder and slid it between Geralt’s legs, pressing up against him. Jaskier stroked through his hair again and said, “you’re dong so good, darling, taking me so well.” Geralt moaned against Jaskier and the bard’s fingers tightened in his hair.

Geralt leaned into the tug of it, pushing himself further down Jaskier’s cock and clamping his thighs around Jaskier’s leg to keep it where he needed.

“Look at you, rutting against me like a dog. But you’re a good pup,” Geralt moaned at Jaskier’s words, shifting his hips more rapidly against Jaskier’s leg. “You’re making me feel so good.” Jaskier’s voice was high and breathy and Geralt knew he was getting close. He ground his hips harder and sucked wildly, making small growling sounds around Jaskier’s cock. Geralt would be embarrassed about it, but the vibrations were making Jaskier writhe against him.

When Jaskier started to come, Geralt pulled back to catch it on his tongue. The taste and feeling of Jaskier falling apart above him sent Geralt tumbling over the edge and his hips jerked against Jaskier’s shin as he came in his pants.

Geralt panted, leaning against Jaskier and the chair. His hands were still crossed behind his back, which Jaskier noticed. Jaskier stroked through his hair and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You can touch now.”

Geralt had needed that, needed the order to convince him to relax his arms and bring them around to hug Jaskier’s waist. He nosed back over to Jaskier’s cock, gently licking him clean.

Jaskier tilted his ankle and pressed his shin against Geralt’s crotch again. Geralt made a face at the sensation of his rapidly cooling release shifting in his pants. “Good thing Priscilla and Ciri already turned in for the night.” Jaskier said, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed, his voice slightly hoarse. He knew Jaskier liked that, liked the reminder of what Geralt had done every time the Witcher spoke. Geralt liked it too, liked the ache that would settle in his throat after a rough session and the soreness in his jaw after a gentler one.

Neither were expecting the cleared throat from behind Jaskier’s chair. Geralt leaned to the side until he could see Priscilla standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked, and a leer on her face.

“Priscilla!” Jaskier’s face was bright red – and considering the number of times Jaskier had been walked in on in his life, it took a lot to embarrass him. Geralt suddenly remembered that this woman was important to Jaskier, that he had started to build a life, and that Geralt was the interloper here.

What would happen if Jaskier’s other lover disapproved of him? Would Jaskier decide that she was right, that Geralt wasn’t worth his time?

“I was just coming out to get a glass of milk for Ciri, but wow.” Priscilla said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. 

Geralt came to attention immediately. “Is Ciri all right?”

“Nightmare,” Priscilla shrugged, her leer turning to a sad smile. “With all the dear girl has been through, I’m not surprised.” She looked them over blatantly, then bounced her eyebrows at Jaskier. “I’m glad you two idiots made up. Hope the apology lived up to your expectations,” she laughed, then brushed past them to the kitchen.

Jaskier groaned and ran his hands over his face. “She is so never gonna let me forget this.” He reached out and combed his fingers through Geralt’s hair. “The White Wolf, on his knees to apologize to me.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Maybe I’ll enjoy the reminders.”

“Or you could always order me to my knees,” Geralt said. If Witchers could blush, his face would be red at the admission, but it had always been true. Geralt had always been eager to go to his knees for Jaskier, always eager to get his face fucked roughly. 

But he thought he might like getting ordered to his knees to be gentle, too. Geralt had been able to  _ feel _ the care Jaskier had for him in each stroke through his hair. While he usually enjoyed his hair being handled a bit harsher, it made something warm spread in his chest that Jaskier saw him as someone who was worth being gentle with. Who was worth taking time with, worth giving a second chance to.

Jaskier pulled him up for a kiss, soft and sweet and full of everything that hadn’t been said. “Come on,” Jaskier said, getting to his feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

Geralt grimaced at the drying mess in his pants and eagerly followed, shucking his clothing as soon as Jaskier closed his bedroom door. Jaskier chuckled, humming a melody under his breath as he readied himself for bed. Then he held out his hand to Geralt and they curled up in the large bed together. Safe in Jaskier’s arms, Geralt let all his worries about how to fix their relationship float away. 

Jaskier wanted him here. That was all Geralt needed to know to drift off to sleep. The last thing he felt was Jaskier pressing a lazy kiss to his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs used:  
> The Horror and the Wild – The Amazing Devil  
> Farewell Wanderlust – The Amazing Devil  
> Wild Blue Yonder – The Amazing Devil


End file.
